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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29027577">Ward off the Darkness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mojohwrites/pseuds/mojohwrites'>mojohwrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dark Times [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Could be read as Jaren/Rezyl, Embedded Images, Gen, Other, Rezyl doesn't quite become Dredgen Yor, Vampire Rezyl, Vampires, Werewolf Jaren, Werewolves, Whump, Witch/sorcerer(?) Shin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:47:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29027577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mojohwrites/pseuds/mojohwrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When a strange but injured man passes through Palamon unexpectedly, Jaren decides to ride out after him in an attempt to help.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaren Ward &amp; Rezyl Azir, Shin Malphur &amp; Jaren Ward</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dark Times [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2278628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Palamon didn’t become home overnight. It happened slowly, like the gradual shifting of the sky as the sun rose. He hadn’t meant to stay long — Jaren had only intended the town to be a short stop on his journey deeper into the wilds, but something about Palamon made him linger. It had reminded him of a small, stubborn wildflower pushing through a crack in barren sandstone. Pale, hardy, and determined to survive.</p><p>Later, after he’d freed the town from the painful grip of its magistrate, that flower began to flourish.</p><p>Twilight became golden sunlight and life, as it often does, got in the way of intent. Between the beasts of the wilds and the threat of bandits, a steady hand and well-placed bullet was something he could continue to provide. Jaren found it surprisingly easy to fall in step with the daily dance of the town, until one day the Gunslinger looked up to find that he had no desire to ever leave this place. </p><p>Jaren had a darkness in him — it was what allowed him to see through Loken, to do what needed to be done. Though he hadn’t expected it, the people of Palamon didn’t fault Jaren for it either. They had learned to live alongside the dark all their lives. He was accepted despite his curse, and with time he found that certain members understood its shape better than the rest. </p><p>Though somehow, no one knew it as distinctly as the boy with piercing eyes.</p><p>Shin had marked him as ‘something different’ when Jaren had first arrived in Palamon, and had told him so the first time they were alone together. Jaren had learned over the years how to keep his darkness hidden — but somehow there was no hiding from those young but knowing eyes. So it became their shared secret.</p><p>A secret that the whole town also seemed partially in on somehow, but had accepted him in spite of.</p><p>Jaren became Palamon’s guardian, learned to call the place home. There were still dangers in the wilds surrounding the settlement — dangers he could protect them from. He also knew that sometimes, those dangers took the shape of men.</p><p> </p><p>-</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Stranger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>The season was turning: still warm in the heat of the day but becoming bitter cold as soon as the sun retreated. Leaves shifted and danced before drifting to the ground in rust-colored droves. Jaren had planned to leave the day prior with the other hunters — they were off tracking a pack of creatures that had strayed too close to the town for comfort, bringing with them a cloud of unease that drifted around Palamon whenever the darkness drew near.</p>
<p>But there was something else in the air.</p>
<p>Jaren couldn’t place it at first, but there was a distinct chill in the warm breeze. Something that caused his instincts to howl a low warning. It told Jaren to linger near Palamon — that he’d be needed. But for what he couldn’t say.</p>
<p>So, although Shin had been the first to lay eyes on the man in black, Jaren had sensed his arrival long before the man passed through the low stone wall that marked the town’s entrance.</p>
<p>The Gunslinger was in his home when the boy came rushing up to the open door, a curious look on his face but no immediate words in his mouth. Jaren looked up from the armor he’d been cleaning — something to keep his hands busy while he awaited whatever that warning would manifest.</p>
<p>“You in trouble with your da again?” Jaren drawled after nodding a greeting at the boy, setting it and his tools down.</p>
<p>“No,” the boy huffed out.</p>
<p>“What are you runnin’ from?”</p>
<p>Shin then shifted uncomfortably, balancing his weight from one foot to the other while lingering just beyond the threshold. “There’s a man. Someone new.”</p>
<p>Jaren waited patiently for the boy to continue, noting the nervousness in his voice and demeanor.</p>
<p>“He’s different. Cold.”</p>
<p>“Some people are just that way.” </p>
<p>“But it’s not that,” the boy started before peeking over his shoulder nervously. He darkened the doorway and lowered his voice as he stepped forward. “He’s like you… but wrong.”</p>
<p>Jaren considered quietly what the boy wasn’t saying. While Jaren’s darkness wasn’t something they discussed often — not in specifics anyway — its acknowledgement meant trouble.</p>
<p>“I’ll… meet with him.” he replied after a pause, and Shin looked instantly relieved. </p>
<p>Jaren returned to his task with more purpose as the boy silently watched. Eventually he came to sit on the old wooden stool near where Jaren worked — one of the only other pieces of furniture in the small cabin besides the bed. </p>
<p>Most days he was Jaren’s quiet shadow, and the man never minded his company.</p>
<p>Shin handed him the brushes and other tools he needed wordlessly, preemptively holding them out. Jaren had become accustomed to the boy’s uncanny ability to know things — it was also not discussed, but simply accepted.</p>
<p>With the help Jaren finished quickly and began to don the armor; Shin observed with wide eyes, knowing what the act implied. Jaren checked his hand cannon thoroughly before holstering the Word at his side and donning his hat.</p>
<p>“Thanks for fetchin’ me. Now back to home with you,” Jaren directed. “I’ll swing round for evening patrol, if your da says you can join.”</p>
<p>The boy nodded from his stool; he usually accepted Jaren’s directions without question, though his young face betrayed a worry. Jaren gave him a small, reassuring smile and patted Shin on the shoulder.</p>
<p>“It’ll be fine,” he said confidently, despite the strange pit forming in his stomach.</p>
<p>Jaren found the stranger easily enough — there weren’t many places in town that offered rooms for travelers. Jaren had stayed in one when he’d first been welcomed to Palamon, but after the business with Loken, the town graciously made room for him. It was more than he asked for or felt he deserved — but they’d been persistent.</p>
<p>Jaren entered the commonspace of the tavern, hesitating near the bar to greet the woman who owned and ran the place.</p>
<p>“Can I get you anything?” Yarrow asked warmly, her long dark hair pulled into a thick, intricate braid that sat on her shoulder. Her welcoming smile faltered momentarily when she noticed his gaze linger on the figure sitting furthest from the door. Jaren wanted to reach over and grasp the hands she’d extended towards him in greeting but refrained, busying himself with taking his hat off instead.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” he rasped with a slight nod towards the back corner. “Just some privacy, if you don’t mind.”</p>
<p>Her eyes narrowed momentarily and she glanced back at her guest.</p>
<p>“Is he—” she started.</p>
<p>“Nothing to worry about.”</p>
<p>Yarrow looked questioningly into his eyes and again he wanted to reach for her, to be reassuring. But even in the relative privacy of this place he hesitated.</p>
<p>A young girl with similarly plaited dark hair soon appeared behind Yarrow. She beamed up at Jaren.</p>
<p>“Afternoon Mil’,” he said softly, giving her a smile in return. Yarrow silently retracted her hands and casually brushed them on her apron.</p>
<p>“We need more oil for the lamps,” she explained her daughter. “Jaren will watch the place while we're gone.”</p>
<p>Yarrow gave him one last concerned look before taking her daughter’s hand, gliding past him as the two made their way out the door. Jaren watched them go with a small sigh before turning to approach the man.</p>
<p>There was no one else around now, save for the two of them. Jaren felt a sudden uneasiness as the eyes beneath the man’s hood focused intensely on him — but he’d learned well how to hide things over the years, so his posture remained easy and unbothered as he drew closer.</p>
<p>Jaren stepped up to the table where the man sat hunched over a bowl of what looked like mostly-untouched food.</p>
<p>“Mind if I join?” he asked lightly.</p>
<p>“Depends.”</p>
<p>“On?”</p>
<p>“If you also want to have words.”</p>
<p>Jaren couldn’t tell if the man was angry or just tired, but beneath the roughly aggressive voice and stooped posture he sensed an almost predatory danger rolling off the man — it made the back of his neck prickle.</p>
<p>“Suppose that depends,” he chuckled in reply, trying to defuse the tension as he pulled out a seat for himself near the man’s table and set his hat down. The man watched Jaren suspiciously as he settled in but didn’t respond. </p>
<p>The weak afternoon sun streaming through the mostly-drawn windows revealed a sharp face beneath the hood. Stringy lengths of dark hair fell across sunken eyes that caught the light strangely. Jaren also noticed a strange odor in the air, though it was mostly buried by the earthy-smelling grime that still caked the man’s dark clothing. </p>
<p>The two men sat in silence for several minutes — neither quite looking directly but still sizing up and evaluating the other. </p>
<p>“You fixin’ to give the good people of this town any trouble?” Jaren finally asked, breaking the silence but keeping his voice light. It was followed by another tense pause.</p>
<p>“No. Just passing.” the man growled lowly, eyes staring at the bowl in front of him. </p>
<p>The Gunslinger carefully eased his hand off the Word and smiled. He felt honesty there.</p>
<p>“Then you’ll have no trouble from me.” Jaren stood slowly and pushed the chair back into its original position. He donned his hat and dipped its brim towards the man before turning to leave — he was somewhat uneasy at turning his back on the man, but it couldn’t be helped. Jaren hesitated at the doorway though.</p>
<p>“Didn’t catch your name.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t give it.”</p>
<p>He decided not to press the man in black further. “Welcome to Palamon, stranger.”</p>
<p>- - -</p>
<p>Rezyl watched intently as the Gunslinger left, still coiled tight and ready to strike in case the man suddenly turned his weapon on him. But nothing happened. If anything, the oppressive weight Rezyl had been feeling actually seemed to lift somewhat with the man’s words.</p>
<p>He eventually heard the door close behind the man and Rezyl sensed the owner return — though she kept her distance, continuing to give him privacy while still remaining close enough to provide service if needed. The young girl he’d seen before was conspicuously absent.</p>
<p>He briefly considered feeding on the woman, now that they were alone. The whispers were growing louder, more incessant, and his wound ached; but he pushed the impulse away when another painful wave of nausea hit him. He had the strangest feeling that it was in response to the hunger.</p>
<p>Rezyl grunted and returned to his food despite the ashen taste it left in his mouth. He would continue to keep up appearances for as long as possible. Coming across this town had originally brought a spark of hope — and renewed his desperate hunger — but as soon as Rezyl had stepped through the gate he’d known.</p>
<p>This place was protected.</p>
<p>-</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yarrow and her daughter Mille are original characters who showed up while I was creating a D&amp;Destiny module set in Palamon during the Dark Age — my players liked her (and the heart eyes Jaren kept giving her) so I gave them a lil cameo here. Just picture Omera &amp; Winta from "The Mandalorian" but with a tavern and a shotgun instead of a shrimp farm.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. In the Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[ Content warning: blood and broken limbs ]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning the man was nowhere to be found — though apparently he had left a small stack of glimmer behind for his host before silently slipping away. But that wasn’t why Yarrow had asked Jaren to come. She nervously pointed to dried, dark splatters across the floor and the still damp sheets. He crouched down near the bed and sniffed quietly — if it was blood, it didn’t smell right. He recalled the strange odor from before.</p><p>“He didn’t tell me he was sick.” Yarrow said softly, watching calmly from the doorframe. “I could have given him something.”</p><p>“Hmmm. Did you hear anythin<span>’ </span>— in the night?”</p><p>“No. It was… actually the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”</p><p>Jaren clicked his tongue and reached for the stained bedding. He touched several fingers to the fabric, which came away almost black.</p><p>“Strange.”</p><p>“Do you think he’ll come back?”</p><p>“Can’t say.”</p><p>She gave him a searching look, which Jaren returned with a shrug before standing up to leave. He wiped his hand on his pant leg to clean away the ichor.</p><p>“Don’t you worry,” he said softly. “It’s not your fault some folks are stubborn.”</p><p>Jaren tipped his hat to Yarrow in passing and silently calculated how long it would take him to catch up with the man in black if he left now. He didn’t know anything about the man, but something about the whole situation pulled at his instincts again. Perhaps he’d just follow his trail, to be sure everything was alright.</p><p>- - -</p><p>“Promise you’ll come back.”</p><p>Jaren tightened the saddle, slipping the leather through the buckle with practiced ease before peering over the horse’s shoulder at the boy. Shin gave him a piercing look in return, waiting for the reply as he sat on the fencepost.</p><p>“Course I will.”</p><p>“Promise.” It wasn’t a question.</p><p>Jaren finished adjusting the remaining straps and patted the horse’s flank before coming around to lean against the fence next to Shin — the boy had shown up almost immediately with an apprehensive look on his face. Yarrow had decidedly stayed quiet about what the man in black had left behind, but somehow the boy had known. He always knew.</p><p>Jaren gave a soft sigh and ruffled Shin’s unruly hair. “It’ll only be a few days.”</p><p>“You have less than a week.”</p><p>“I’m aware.”</p><p>Shin fidgeted with the hem of his shirt before giving Jaren one of those nervous looks — the kind that always made Jaren wonder if the kid was some sort of sorcerer, playing with his emotions like that. He gave the boy what he hoped was a reassuring smile.</p><p>“I promise.”</p><p>- - -</p><p>It took him some time to find the trail — the man in black was surprisingly quick, despite whatever injury he hid.</p><p>But every so often Jaren found traces of that strange blood, enough to know that he was still following close behind but also deepening his concern about the man’s state. He stood up from the bush he was crouched next too, several of its leaves stained with the dark liquid. Jaren placed his foot in the stirrup and threw a leg over the horse.</p><p>The sun was low in the sky and would set soon, the heavy clouds that rolled in streaked with reds and golds. Jaren hoped they wouldn’t linger as he stirred the mare forward. Clouds made it difficult to see the moon — and Traveler knows he doesn’t want to catch the man during an unfortunate time.</p><p>Luck seemed on his side however; an hour after sunset he thought he could see a figure in the distance, mounting a steep ridge. It was difficult to tell for sure in the twilight if it was his target, but a slight breeze from that direction carried a strange scent.</p><p>Jaren had found the man in black.</p><p>He dismounted from his horse and stared up the mountainside — he didn’t want to appear aggressive or spook the man, so following on foot seemed the best course. Jaren hitched the white mare to a low-hanging branch and gave her a fond pat.</p><p>“Be right back,” he whispered to the horse then began to climb.</p><p>It was truly dark by the time he scaled the ridge, the cloud cover blanketing everything in a deep darkness. The wind shifted too, now at Jaren’s back. He shivered slightly, the sweat from climbing chilling him further. He could hear something ahead of him in the darkness.</p><p>“Everythin<span>’ </span>alright?” he called out, placing a hand on the Word.</p><p>There was no response, but the footsteps halted as the figure stopped in his tracks. For a brief moment the clouds shifted and Jaren could easily see the man in black in the moonlight — he was slightly favoring one side and had something like a pained expression on his face.</p><p>“Y’all right?” Jaren asked again.</p><p>He waited patiently for a reply as the clouds shifted again, returning the world to darkness. Another breeze hit Jaren’s back, biting where his skin was exposed.</p><p>Suddenly the man was only a few paces away.</p><p>Jaren took a step backward in surprise. He was struck by how much taller the man looked now — before when they’d met, the man seemed bent over in either pain or cowardice — but now his back was straight and stiff as a board. </p><p>He gazed intently at Jaren with those shining green eyes and part of him wondered briefly if he’d stepped into a bear trap.</p><p>The man took several halting steps forward but Jaren didn’t retreat any further, instead feeling rooted where he stood. The back of his neck prickled in warning before a strange calm came over him. Jaren began to slowly lower the hand cannon he hadn’t realized he’d drawn. </p><p>Closer now, the man carefully reached up and caught Jaren’s wrist, meeting it part way as it lowered. His touch was cold — too cold — but Jaren didn’t flinch as he felt the scrape of sharp nails digging into his arm. </p><p>He found he couldn’t drag his eyes away from that intense gaze.</p><p>“What…”</p><p>The man moved into his space, much too close for comfort, but Jaren only felt somehow calmer for it. His breath quickened as the man leaned in, his features sharp and fierce. Jaren thought he saw something bright appear at the center of the man’s forehead. </p><p>But before he could think about it more, a blinding pain unexpectedly shot through Jaren’s neck and shoulder.</p><p>Broken from the stillness that had overcome him, Jaren struggled against the heavy weight now pressing down on him. He tried to shove the man away but the pressure held firm. He choked as an uncontrollable shiver ran through his entire body — followed by a wave of oppressive, mind-numbing calm.</p><p>His thrashing limbs soon stilled. Although his legs began to feel weak, Jaren kept from dropping to the ground, but only barely. He distantly felt a pulsing, burning throb at his shoulder but was remarkably unbothered by the sensation. </p><p>Jaren’s mind drifted — he thought about rolling fields, tall trees, and open sky. About warm, peaceful campfires and starry nights. About the familiar, reassuring weight of the Word. He thought about how much he looked forward to teaching Shin how to shoot.</p><p>But thinking of the boy reminded him of his promise — and caused frenzied realization to come crashing down.</p><p>“No!” he barked painfully.</p><p>Jaren shot once into the air, shattering the silence. Galvanized by the familiar sound, he struck the butt of his cannon against the thing bearing down on him and followed with a rough kick. The man was pushed away as a burst of pain dragged across Jaren's neck and shoulder but like the gunshot it was a clarifying sharpness. </p><p>Warm, wet liquid trailed down his back and side. He instinctively pressed a hand to his throat in an attempt to stanch the wound as he leveled the Word. Three glowing green eyes stared out at him from the darkness.</p><p>“Now get back,” he tried to yell, but it came out slurred.</p><p>He cocked the hammer, ready for his attacker to strike again, and sucked in a breath. The burst of strength and retaliation flooding through him a moment ago faded almost immediately. Jaren blinked hard a few times to clear his still hazy vision but realized that the lights had simply vanished. Jaren suddenly felt strangely alone. </p><p>Had he been… dreaming? </p><p>He pulled his hand away from his neck — there was warm blood there. Not a dream then, but where was the man? His heart pounded in his chest and his head began to throb with each pulsing beat. Jaren scented the air but could only smell blood — and his own rising fear. </p><p>He swore softly and glanced around, unable to see much in the creeping darkness. Where was…?</p><p>He took a shaky breath — he had to get back to his horse. Jaren turned and began to slowly make his way back down the ridge, keeping his iron at the ready and looking behind every so often to check for whatever had attacked him. </p><p>He was <em>certain</em> that he’d been attacked. But the details of why he was bleeding were starting to become increasingly vague, like sand slipping through his fingers. </p><p>That part scared him the most.</p><p>Suddenly the world tilted sickeningly and Jaren’s legs abruptly gave way beneath him — he fell to the ground hard, but the momentum continued to carry him uncontrollably downhill. As he tumbled his leg exploded with pain before he finally crashed into a tree, the hand cannon knocked from his grasp. A jolt shot through his body as the breath was forced from his lungs.</p><p>Gasping for air, Jaren lay in a confused, pain-filled daze before eventually realizing that his neck felt warm and slick. He had to get up — there were bandages with his horse. </p><p>Jaren tried to stand but grunted out a cry as sudden agony radiating from his leg overwhelmed him. Jaren sucked in a breath through his teeth and swore again. He looked for the Word and eventually spotted it a few feet away. </p><p>Head spinning, he desperately attempted to crawl towards it but every was movement sluggish. </p><p>As Jaren reached for the weapon the world tilted beneath him again. He knew he was slipping away as darkness flooded his consciousness. His last thought was of Shin — and that he’d broken his promise.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Reparations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[ Content warning: blood and broken limbs ]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rezyl snapped out of his haze as a gunshot echoed through the night. He was then struck and roughly shoved away from his prey, causing him to growl. There wasn’t enough force behind either to damage or even knock him off balance, but it did give him a chance to clear his blood-frenzied head.</p><p>He watched as the man from Palamon raised his iron but curiously did not fire again. Instead, he looked around in confused hesitation, eyes becoming unfocused. Rezyl had seen reactions like this before and knew that now he simply needed to be patient. His lengthening tail twitched back and forth eagerly.</p><p>He silently observed as the man eventually turned away — unaware of the danger behind him — but moments later collapsed and tumbled down the steep hill. There was a painful-looking struggle to stand after colliding with a tree followed by the man dragged himself toward his dropped weapon. </p><p>Despite the distance, Rezyl could feel the man’s frantic heartbeat slow as he eventually lost consciousness — though whether from pain or blood-loss it was difficult to tell.</p><p>Rezyl hadn’t meant to feed so heavily; but it had been far too long and he was injured. Or, had been injured — he examined where the wound had been and found it healed, the blood dry. He felt renewed and invigorated, his senses sharp as his fangs. The strange sickness he’d felt upon entering that town long forgotten. </p><p>Relaxed, Rezyl licked the warm blood from around his mouth and strode hungrily but without hurry to the fallen man.</p><p>He crouched down and observed that one of the man’s legs was twisted in a strange angle — possibly broken from the fall. The scent of fresh blood was thick as Rezyl turned the man over, still bleeding from where he’d been bitten. Dirt, sweat, and blood covered the man’s face and neck, catching in the stubble of his beard. </p><p>Rezyl absently wiped this away and hovered near the wound. It would be so easy to finish what he started.</p><p>Part of him — the always-constant hunger — yearned to drain the man entirely, to sup again on that intoxicating blood till nothing remained. <em> It would be easy</em>, the hunger whispered. He could even take his time now that the man couldn’t resist him. Savor long and luxurious pulls till nothing remained.</p><p>But the small human part of him cried out in remorse and disgust, filling his eyes with blackened tears.</p><p><em> He wanted to help you, </em> it pleaded. <em> He didn’t shoot you when he had the chance. </em> Rezyl growled at the thought and wiped at his face, admitting with some annoyance that it was right. He hadn’t expected the man to follow him this far — to go out of his way to help a complete stranger. The man hadn’t known what danger he’d been stepping into by following him; that he’d been following and offering to help a monster. But even so.</p><p>Rezyl glanced at the man’s wound again — it was deep and still wept. He ran his tongue over his lengthened teeth as that nagging feeling remained. Finally, with a resigned sigh he leaned in and carefully began to lick at the ragged wound. The skin and muscle he touched slowly began to seal. </p><p>He muffled another sigh, this one of both hunger and relief. </p><p>Rezyl forced himself away before the tempting whispers grew any stronger. Taking several deep breaths of the cold air, he willed the hungry third eye to finally close and fangs to recede. Gratefully, his horns hadn’t sprouted fully.</p><p>“There,” he rumbled as inhuman features disappeared, the temptation lessening and the whispers retreating.</p><p>Rezyl watched the man’s chest rise and fall — something had given him the strength to break through the calming trance and fight back. That didn’t happen very often. Rezyl found himself idly wondering what that source of strength could be. Fear? A promise to a lover perhaps? Or simply stubborn determination? </p><p>He mulled these possibilities silently but was interrupted when the man beside him shivered violently. It was a cold night, and again Rezyl was reminded of the frailness of humans. </p><p>From the look of his leg, the man probably wouldn’t be able to walk for some time. Leaving him here would be a death sentence of its own. He briefly remembered spotting a cave earlier — perhaps he could bring the man there and then be on his way. Perhaps he would even forget what happened, as most of Rezyl’s victims tended to. The ones who survived, that is.</p><p>- - -</p><p>Jaren woke to a warm, crackling fire and a splitting headache. He groaned softly and shifted. He didn’t recall building a fire, but the piercing ache between his temples made it difficult to think.</p><p>He must have made camp at some point. In changing position both his shoulder and leg began to throb with competing levels of pain and Jaren sucked in a rough breath. Had he fallen earlier? A fall would explain the bad way his head and body was in.</p><p>He coughed before blearily opening his eyes. A well-tended fire danced beside him and the flickering light revealed a small camp tucked into what seemed to be a shallow cave. Jaren recognized the blanket lying over him as one of his own — something one of the grateful women in town had gifted him that first winter.</p><p>Jaren shut his eyes again, trying to think through the pain-muddling fog. He couldn’t immediately remember why he was out here in the wild, seemingly alone. Was he huntin’? He vaguely recalled following tracks, but they weren’t deer or some other creature. He focused on the memory: of stopping down to peer at an imprint in the mud and sniff at the dark substance coating a leaf.</p><p>But a noise near the mouth of the cave interrupted his thoughts — his eyes shot open to see a figure standing there. The light behind them shadowed their face, but Jaren recognized the scent. It was the man in black, the one he’d met in town.</p><p>Something raw and instinctual caused Jaren’s heart to start beating faster, which made the pounding in his head worsen before he forced himself to take several deep breaths to calm himself. The man was walking towards the fire, but stopped short when he noticed Jaren staring at him.</p><p>“You’re awake.” he said gruffly.</p><p>“What—” Jaren began but started coughing uncontrollably — his throat <em> burned</em>.</p><p>While he tried to stop, the man casually walked around the fire and crouched down nearby. Between coughs Jaren noticed a waterskin at the man’s side, which the man soon removed and held out toward him in question. Jaren reached for it.</p><p>The water helped ease the burning sensation as he carefully poured it into his mouth. The man silently stood and seated himself on a rock placed near the fire. Jaren’s eyes followed him, quietly watching the man settle while the pain in his throat receded. He coughed softly one more before he chanced to speak again.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>The man simply nodded from where he sat.</p><p>“Did I… fall?” Jaren asked hesitantly.</p><p>“Seems that way. Leg might be broken — brought you back here.”</p><p>“I appreciate the help,” Jaren replied with a dry chuckle.</p><p>Eventually he closed his eyes again — though the pain in his head and throat had lessened since waking, moving around had reminded him of the slowly growing unbearable throb from his leg. It had been some time since he’d actually broken anything — usually he could patch most injuries himself, stitching and wrapping the various cuts and scrapes that resulted from time spent either fighting or tracking. </p><p>He knew there was a healer in Palamon — but thinking about it, he wasn’t actually sure how far they were from the settlement. Another harrowing realization started to settle into his bones.</p><p>“How long… What day’s it?”</p><p>The man gave him a curious look — he had been silently sitting near the fire, but Jaren noticed a small, tattered-looking book balanced on the man’s knee.</p><p>“Does it matter?”</p><p>“It matters.” Jaren tried to keep the strain from his voice. </p><p>The man gave him a long stare before replying, “I passed through Palamon three days ago. You slept almost a whole day.”</p><p>“Shit.”</p><p>“Got somewhere to be?”</p><p>“Promised to get back soon.”</p><p>“You’ll get there eventually. Depends how long that leg decides to be a problem.”</p><p>Jaren gave a long, tired sigh. Three days didn’t give him much time — he did not want this man to see what would happen within that time — nor did he want to put someone who helped him in danger. He realized with slight guilt that he still did not know what to call the man, but chuckled when he remembered their first conversation.</p><p>“Is it still hard to catch?”</p><p>The man cocked an eyebrow.</p><p>“Your name,” Jaren provided with a lopsided smile. “Mine’s Ward. Jaren Ward”</p><p>The man simply stared at him for a time — Jaren sensed something that it wasn’t annoyance, exactly, but definitely a hesitation. Eventually there was an almost imperceptible shrug of the shoulders followed by that deep voice.</p><p>“Rezyl.”</p><p>“Pleasure to meet you, Rezyl.”</p><p>“Right,” Rezyl grunted out, but his expression remained even. Jaren counted it as something and leaned his head back. The headache had retreated but everything was still sore. His eyes felt heavy again and though he knew that he would have to figure out a way to leave soon, he didn’t resist the darkness that soon swallowed him.</p><p>- - -</p><p>The man named Jaren’s breathing deepened as he slipped unconscious once again. Rezyl felt his pulse slow and tried to push the sound from his mind, turning toward the notebook open on his leg for distraction. He made several thick marks, the lead making quiet scratching sounds as Rezyl carefully sketched the path he’d taken to reach this place — a small sliver of the wilderness captured and cataloged in his book.</p><p>Making maps was calming, requiring his near-perfect recollection and focus in order to properly capture the hills and valleys of the area. It became a hobby of sorts, something to pass the time when he was alone.</p><p>When the map was finished to his liking, however, he briefly looked to his resting companion. Ward had hardly moved while Rezyl sketched, his head slightly tipped toward the fire. The light flickering across his dark skin made for an interesting image — it had been some time since Reyzl had sketched another person and his fingers itched to continue drawing.</p><p>Carefully turning to a clean page, Reyzl sharpened the edge of his pencil with a small knife and looked over the sleeping man’s form. There wasn’t much else to do besides, and it was a pleasing enough face.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Fight or Flight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Jaren awoke again, he found he was alone once more, the man Rezyl was nowhere to be seen. The fire continued to crackle, though now much lower. From the gentle light streaming in from the cave mouth he figured it was somewhere near morning. His head did not throb as it had earlier; he chanced sitting upright, slowly bracing himself on his elbows. His shoulder felt stiff but had improved somewhat, though his leg was another matter.</p><p>Jaren slowly removed the blanket to inspect the injury — his right leg was wrapped with strips of cloth and lashed to a thick length of metal. Not the neatest work, but passable. It also seemed sturdy enough; Jaren carefully attempted to put some weight on that side and push himself up into a standing position. </p><p>The jolt running up his leg forced a gasp from his lips and he sank back down onto the makeshift bed, arms shaking. </p><p>He attempted once more, now ready for the pain that would come. A small groan escaped but he was able to put more weight on his second attempt before he dropped again. It needed more time to heal — time that he didn’t have much of. He let his head fall backward as he considered other options.</p><p>He might be able to ride his horse, though obviously he would need some help mounting up. <em> Wait</em>, he thought in a sudden panic. <em> My horse</em>. He vaguely remembered tying her up before leaving for… somewhere.</p><p>Jaren sat up quickly with a wince and nervously whistled a high note — he was answered with a nicker that sounded close by. A white head appeared from around the side of the cave entrance, a handful of grass hanging from the horse’s mouth as the mare stared at him morosely. He let out a sigh of relief and dropped back down.</p><p>“Lady, don’t gimme that look” he called out affectionately; the horse replied with a huff before returning to eat.</p><p>Jaren stared at the rock ceiling for a while, wishing he could be outside instead. He’d always preferred the open sky. His throat was beginning to feel raw again — he reached for the waterskin Rezyl had left there earlier and drank slowly.</p><p>The cool water was refreshing, but didn’t satisfy the empty feeling that began to settle in his stomach; he couldn’t recall the last time he ate anything. Jaren searched around the campsite and found that it was his pack that was supporting his head — he figured there would be supplies packed in there. He gratefully found several strips of jerky within a small bag and began to chew on the dried meat.</p><p>He wondered absently where Rezyl might have gone — there was a pack near the fire that Jaren assumed was his. But he also didn’t notice another bed; perhaps Rezyl had gone somewhere else to sleep, though he couldn’t figure why. Finishing the jerky, Jaren shifted backwards to use the pack as a backrest and stretched.</p><p>Eventually he noticed a small, red leather notebook tucked into an exterior pocket of the other pack. It was bound leather, the same he’d seen on the man’s knee the night before. </p><p>Rezyl didn’t strike him as a journal keeper, but then again, Jaren didn’t know much about the man. They had been complete strangers a day ago — still were in a sense — and though they’d hardly shared many words, something felt strangely familiar to Jaren about the man in black. He recalled Shin’s insistence that Rezyl was like him. </p><p>But it seemed to Jaren that the man wasn’t afflicted with any curse other than the hardships of a life of self-inflicted isolation. Jaren had lived similarly once — moving on from places quickly before any sort of familiarity could form, avoiding any debt to or expectations from others, keeping to the wilds during the rough times.</p><p>But then he found Palamon.</p><p>Jaren shifted position, contemplating another attempt at standing. But he distantly heard a noise from the mouth of the cave — Rezyl was standing there, patting the white mare softly on the neck. There was something thrown over his shoulder and Jaren could smell a trace of blood.</p><p>“Afternoon,” he called out as the other man neared.</p><p>Rezyl grunted in reply before setting down what turned out to be a brace of rabbits. He silently retrieved a knife from his pack, which he began to sharpen. Though the jerky had abated most of his hunger, Jaren eyed the catch intently, the thought of something fresh causing his mouth to water in a way he’d never openly admit to. Rezyl tested the edge briefly and began to prepare the meat.</p><p>Jaren figured now would be as good a time as any.</p><p>“Now, I appreciate the help — you’ve done right by me. But I need to be back.”</p><p>“How do you figure?” Rezyl replied a few moments later, eyes fixed on his work as he carefully flayed the soft fur from the meat. </p><p>“Lady’s a good horse. I can take it slow.”</p><p>“Succeed at standing yet?”</p><p>Jaren grimaced slightly, “I’ll get by.”</p><p>The man looked up from his work to give Jaren a flat, knowing stare as he paused his work. His dark hair was pulled back, accentuating the sharpness of his features. There was blood on his hands and forearms; the sight of which sparked something in Jaren. </p><p>Something coiled at the back of his mind, like a memory or a warning. </p><p>He suddenly imagined Rezyl looming over him, blood dripping from the man’s mouth and a fierce hunger in his sharp eyes — eyes which glowed with an otherworldly green light.</p><p>Jaren shivered at the thought and looked down at his own hands, which began to uncontrollably shake. A hollow panic started to set in as he realized for the first time since waking that he was lacking both armor and any sort of weapon.</p><p>“My cannon — where is it?” he asked in a low, shaky rasp.</p><p>Rezyl paused to catch his eye and held his gaze before shifting his focus to Jaren’s trembling hands. The man looked at his own bloodied hands and carefully set down the knife. Jaren watched him with mounting unease.</p><p>“Your saddlepack.”</p><p>He didn’t elaborate any further, which somehow only caused the panic to rise further like bile in the back of Jaren’s throat. He clenched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.</p><p>“The armor?” Jaren tried to ask calmly.</p><p>Rezyl simply gestured towards a pile nearby where Jaren sat, his hat perched atop. As he glanced at it, part of him was surprised that he hadn’t noticed it earlier. Another other part was frantically screaming for him to put it on. </p><p>He closed his eyes, silently repeating to himself that he hadn’t a reason to be afraid of the man who was simply helping him. He felt Rezyl’s intense stare, but the man said nothing, just silently seemed to wait for whatever Jaren would do. He took another shaky breath. </p><p>The fear scrabbling around in the back of Jaren’s mind was like something rabid, howling a frantic warning. It made it difficult to think about anything other than breathing or trying to escape.</p><p>The pounding throb he’d felt earlier was starting to return as well — he reached up a hand to press against his forehead, feeling sweat prickling there. He opened an eye to glance at Rezyl; he thought he saw a green shine reflected back. Suddenly the throb began to wane as a strange wave of calm swelled over him, pulling Jaren under.</p><p>Jaren slumped, muscles relaxing as the fear receded, replaced by a hollow yet oppressive peacefulness. It settled heavily as consciousness quickly left him.</p><p>- - -</p><p>Seeing the man sitting across from him finally waver, Rezyl sighed. He calmly licked the blood from his hands to clean them and reached out to steady the Gunslinger before he fell over. He gripped the man’s shoulder tightly and squeezed — but there was no response. Ward seemed to have blacked out, the calm Rezyl had forced upon him overwhelming in his compromised state.</p><p>He didn’t regret doing it, much. Rezyl had sensed Ward’s sudden shift and had known that he simply couldn’t permit the man to spiral further. It was a delicate thing. If Wardbecame too wary of him then there was a likely chance that the man would do something regrettable in an effort to protect himself, instincts being the way they were.</p><p>Rezyl sighed again; this was quickly becoming more complicated than he’d intended.</p><p>He adjusted Ward into a more comfortable position, laying him back down onto the makeshift bed and resumed preparing the meat. It wasn’t as satisfying or filling as human blood, but he’d learned long ago how to make due. The other man needed the nourishment to continue the healing process, especially with his insistence to return to that strange little town. </p><p>Rezyl prepared a mixture of spices to season the meat, a small luxury for those rare moments when he actually prepared food and could taste it. He realized absently that he actually wasn’t that <em> hungry</em>. It had been a few days since he’d fed on Ward, but the incessant whispers were slower to return this time. Frowning as he set the meat aside to begin marinating, he quietly observed the other man for a moment. His hand twitched. </p><p>Eventually he returned to his notebook to make another sketch.</p><p>- - -</p><p>When Jaren awoke later he found he wasn’t alone this time, and was strangely comforted by the realization — Rezyl was nearby but turned away, his large back illuminated by the firelight. In his sleepy stupor Jaren found himself noting the strength of the other man’s shoulders. He figured Rezyl was taller than him and definitely broader. A titan of a man before him somehow seemed quite different from the one he’d met back at the inn.</p><p>Mind still wandering, Jaren eventually noticed that it was pitch black beyond the cave mouth. He was confused for a moment; Jaren didn’t remember going to sleep earlier. He closed his eyes and tried to recall their earlier conversation.</p><p>It was hazy — they’d been talking, but he couldn’t remember the specifics.</p><p>“Hungry?” he heard the other man rumble. Jaren opened his eyes to see Rezyl now turned toward him, holding something out that smelled delicious.</p><p>Jaren carefully raised himself up to a sitting position and took the rough wooden bowl from the man, trying to keep himself from drooling as the scent hit him. Rezyl had made some kind of stew — Jaren couldn’t quite recognise the meat but noticed that some of the other ingredients were local to the area.</p><p>“You scrounge these yourself?” he asked, bringing the bowl to his mouth.</p><p>Rezyl nodded, and Jaren took a cautious sip. <em> Traveler it was good. </em> He tried not to feel too self-conscious as he hungrily ate some more while the other man watched.</p><p>Eventually Rezyl started on his own bowl, and though Jaren was quite absorbed in not spilling any of his own, he didn’t miss the slight smile on Rezyl’s face. His stomach fluttered — but Jaren figured it was the delicious stew now settling there and not how the other man’s harsh features softened.</p><p>They ate in companionable silence, with enough left over that Jaren happily finished off another bowl. He found it strange that a man of Rezyl’s stature didn’t eat more, but he didn’t call attention to it.</p><p>“You’re right,” Rezyl started after a prolonged silence. “I don’t know much about healing. That leg probably needs attention.”</p><p>Between the warm food in his gut and the coziness of the fire, Jaren had been drifting. He shifted position to better stay awake and winced — his leg had begun to ache again. He felt Rezyl’s eyes on him.</p><p>“In the morning we’ll leave.” the man pronounced.</p><p>“We?” Jaren wasn’t sure he heard correctly.</p><p>“Doubt you can stay upright.”</p><p>“That’s fair.” </p><p>Jaren straightened out his leg as best as he could and ran a hand over the makeshift brace. His skin felt tight and itchy where it rubbed against the leather and he frowned. “Think it’s swollen a bit — hope that doesn’t mean infection.”</p><p>“There was some blood.”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>Again Jaren tried to recall the events leading up to his fall. It was still hazy, though now he vaguely remembered the slick warmth of blood running down his back and side — but that didn’t make sense. It was his leg that’d been injured and his clothes were clean, relatively. He absently rubbed at his shoulder.</p><p>“Do you mind helpin’ me get outside? I just need some fresh air.”</p><p>Rezyl didn’t reply but instead silently reached out an arm to help him up. Jaren grasped it, taking a breath and bracing himself for pain as he sat up. He almost yelped in surprise when he quickly found himself upright, bumping into Rezyl slightly as he found his footing.</p><p>Steadied, Jaren blew out a breath and started moving forward, trying not to clutch too desperately onto the other man as they shuffled towards the mouth of the cave. The stiffness in his joints was easing with movement and Jaren was grateful for how easily Rezyl took his weight.</p><p>As they finally stepped outside Jaren closed his eyes a moment to breathe deeply. A comforting melody of scents greeted him and he looked up at Rezyl.</p><p>“Thanks. Let me try…” he trailed off, gesturing to the horse. Rezyl nodded, releasing him and taking a step backwards. Careful to avoid putting too much weight on what he was sure now was a fractured bone, Jaren limped a few steps over to the horse, who nickered softly as he drew near.</p><p>“Hey there old girl,” Jaren whispered as he patted Lady. It was a dark night, clouds obscuring most of the stars, but her white coat reflected what little light there was. A soft but cold breeze played through the trees and he shivered slightly.</p><p>Sighing deeply, Jaren looked fondly up at the sky and was about to thank Rezyl again when the clouds suddenly shifted. Everything became starkly illuminated in bright, cold light and his whole body tensed as realization came crashing down.</p><p>The moon was full and Jaren began to howl.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>&gt;:3c</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Revelations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[ Content warning: body horror &amp; transformations, though not very detailed/gory ]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ban Aruda awoke with a start, jerked awake by the terrified cry of his son. A sliver of light from outside the window illuminated the small room they shared, a bright harvest moon. Ban rubbed a hand over his face as he threw the covers off himself and stumbled across to the other bed.</p><p>Shin was shaking in his sleep, his face pinched in frozen dread and damp with sweat. It had been awhile since they’d dealt with night terrors, but not unexpected. Ban softly placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and shook him a few times, hoping to wake him gently as he started to murmur the boy’s name.</p><p>Shin’s eyes shot open and he gasped loudly as a sudden wave of fear seemed to course through him. He flinched away from being touched and pushed himself desperately against the wall, eyes wide with fear. Ban stayed still, hands slightly raised. </p><p>“It’s alright,” he said slowly. “You’re safe. We’re here at home. You were dreaming.”</p><p>Ban wished there was more he could do for his son when this happened. But the fear that clouded Shin’s eyes screamed without words that his mind was somewhere else entirely at the moment. All the man could do was to speak calmly and hope it would reach Shin, wherever he was.</p><p>Eventually, the boy’s ragged breathing eased and his eyes softened as the silent terror shifted into welling tears. He was back. Ban slowly reached out for the boy, who quickly buried himself into the father’s side as a soft sob escaped. Shin began to cry as he began to gently rub the boy’s back, calloused hands running over thick fabric that was cold with sweat.</p><p>“You’re alright,” he murmured. “You are safe.”</p><p>After a few minutes the boy quieted, worn out by the ordeal. He shifted, staying tucked close to his father but peering up at him to speak.</p><p>“I…” Shin hiccuped, shivering slightly. “I saw Jaren again.”</p><p>Ban released a long, tired sigh and continued to rub circles across the boy’s back. He turned his head to listen better, nodding for him to continue. Ban had learned that it was better to let Shin try to explain what he’d seen, however slowly it came out or confusing it sounded.</p><p>“But he wasn’t alone. There was someone else there.”</p><p>“A friend maybe?” he asked softly.</p><p>“I don’t… I don’t know yet.”</p><p>Ban gently pushed back several locks of hair from the boy’s still damp forehead, mulling over something he could say that would be comforting.</p><p>“You know Jaren, he’s strong. He’ll be alright.”</p><p>After a few moments the boy silently shook his head in agreement and curled up close again, grabbing at the fabric of Ban’s shirt. His father shifted position to lean back against the wall and closed his eyes, pulling Shin close. The two of them quietly sat together until the boy fell back asleep.</p><p>It had been four days since Jaren’s leaving, and the moon shone bright in the sky.</p><p>- - -</p><p>Rezyl was transfixed as the man from Palamon became something else.</p><p>He’d heard the stories about beings like this: cursed souls forced to change shape when the moon was full. He had even wondered if his own condition was some sort of offshoot or mutation of this curse. But his transformations were never this… <em> visceral</em>.</p><p>Ward bent over, screaming with pain as his body seemed to split apart and the smell of blood filled the air. Rezyl felt his fangs begin to extend at the scent but otherwise he kept himself easily in control, wholly fascinated by the transformation from man to beast. The clamoring whispers in his mind took on a new tone, one he hadn’t heard before.</p><p>Eventually the howling ceased and the creature turned its massive head towards Rezyl, jaw hanging slightly open as a white vapor escaped between large fangs and splayed mandibles. Four blazing eyes of an intense blue locked with his. The wolfen creature sniffed loudly and a low growl emanated from it, but Rezyl held still. </p><p>“Ward?” he asked calmly.</p><p>The beast’s ears flicked forward at the noise, but gave no other indication that it understood him. They watched each other for several long, drawn out moments before eventually the creature let out a huff and turned toward the horse beside it. Rezyl was blandly surprised that it had stayed so calm through the ordeal. </p><p><em> Stupid horse should have run, </em> he thought to himself, ready for bloodshed, but was surprised when the wolf gently rubbed its muzzle against the mare’s neck and rumbled. </p><p>Interesting — perhaps the beast wasn’t entirely mindless.</p><p>The hulking creature turned back toward Rezyl once more, eyes narrowing. He tensed in response, but instead of attacking it suddenly leapt down the hill in a graceful lope and soon disappeared into the night.</p><p>- - -</p><p>
  <em> The freedom to run again was exhilarating. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Each of his limbs worked in tandem, a perfect and alien symphony. The heavy front paws tore into the dirt as the middle pair followed, gracefully stabilizing as the powerful hindlegs sprung forwards. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He’d become so tired of holding himself differently, of being relegated to a bed. Of the uncanny feeling that he was somehow missing something crucial, something important about what had happened to him. </em>
</p><p><em> But these thoughts quickly drifted away — in this form there wasn’t much he could do except </em> <b> <em>be</em></b><em>. </em></p><p>
  <em> His blood sang as he scented the cold evening air, tasting the world around him; there was a storm approaching from the north. The breeze also carried the scent of other beasts, though a ways off. He would fight them if they came too close to his territory. He would fight the strange one as well. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But for now the wolf simply wanted to run. </em>
</p><p>- - -</p><p>The shifting morning light revealed dark, heavy fur and chitin plates dissolving away into vapor, replaced by skin and human hair. Jaren was dimly aware of his surroundings, only partially conscious as full awareness returned slowly, as if crawling through heavy mud. When stark realization arrived he found himself lying on the ground beside his horse, limbs sore and tingling. </p><p>Exhausted from a long night, he sighed heavily and rolled away from the warmth of his companion to sit up. Partway through the action Jaren winced as he remembered his leg but looked down to find that it was no longer shattered. He felt gingerly around where the break had been — tender, but otherwise whole. Relieved, he silently thanked the Traveler. </p><p>He shivered in the cold and immediately began looking for the saddlebag, knowing there was an extra set of clothing stored inside to cover himself. </p><p>The horse began to stir, nickering softly as she rose from where they’d been curled up together on the ground. Lady trotted over and nuzzled against Jaren’s back as he pulled on a pair of worn pants, almost knocking him over. He hummed and stroked a hand through her mane.</p><p>“Good mornin’ to you too.”</p><p>Once again Jaren was amazed and grateful for the old mare. All those years ago he’d woken up after a long night to find the unfamiliar horse calmly laying next to him, as if she’d always been there. Lady was a good horse — smart, healthy, and entirely unbothered by his transformations. Jaren had found it comforting to have another being nearby; helped to ground himself in his newly-restored body.</p><p>The wolf seemed to be fond of her presence too, based on the way they always woke up together, without a scratch or bite on her.</p><p>Jaren was never quite sure if it was him or some other being that took over when he changed. Sometimes he would have dim memories afterwards — fevered dreams of dark, moonlit skies and hot blood between his teeth — but usually his ordeals were simply a gap in his awareness. </p><p>Lost time with little clues as to where he went or what he did — or who he might have hurt. But the wilds surrounding Palamon were a comfort in their enormity, and Jaren hadn’t felt that particular terrible knot of guilt for a long time.</p><p>So mornings like this were to be appreciated: other than soreness and frigid feet, Jaren was sure he’d had a relatively uneventful turning.</p><p>Patting his horse on the neck, he fished a patched tunic out of the pack and saw a long hunting knife there as well. Jaren paused — where was the Word?</p><p>“Welcome back,” a rough voice interrupted from behind him.</p><p>Jaren grabbed the knife and spun around quickly, primed to throw it. Several paces back stood Rezyl, both hands slightly raised. Jaren had the distinct feeling that it was to show he was unarmed. He huffed out a laugh.</p><p>“You surprised me,” Jaren said lamely after a pause but remained tense — he realized he hadn’t even heard the man’s approach. Rezyl seemed to evaluate him silently, a strangeness lightness to his features that Jaren soon realized to be amusement.</p><p>“Could say the same.” Rezyl eventually replied.</p><p>Jaren blew out a long breath — of course Rezyl had seen. He shivered again in the cold morning air and finally pulled on the rough tunic, partially to give himself a moment to think. The pieces had been slowly coming back, along with other memories. One in particular rose to the surface. He looked up at Rezyl.</p><p>“It wasn’t just a fall. You <em> attacked </em> me.”</p><p>“Regrettably.” The other man’s eyes flashed with something like annoyance — or possibly guilt. “It wasn’t intended.”</p><p>“What’d you intend?”</p><p>“Isolation. But <em> you </em> followed.” </p><p>Jaren felt a hot anger rise up but took a steadying breath to cool it as Rezyl dropped his hands to his sides. Jaren shifted position but still gripped the knife tightly. The clearing became quiet as the two men considered each other.</p><p>Jaren broke the silence. “Why?” </p><p>Rezyl cocked an eyebrow and simply folded his arms in response, as if waiting for him to elaborate. </p><p>“Why help me after?” he reiterated.</p><p>“A debt to be returned.”</p><p>“Then why hide what actually happened?”</p><p>Rezyl shook his head. “You know what truth costs for those like us.”</p><p>“Like us?”</p><p>Jaren then scented something in the air. A strange odor coming from the other man, who began slowly coming closer. Rezyl’s face was contemplative as he walked, as if trying to make a decision. </p><p>“We step into the dark.” A wicked smile flashed briefly, “But will you look?”</p><p>Rezyl paused before him, head tilted to the side patiently. Jaren weighed his curiosity against his newly recovered memories and all he knew of the man he’d been with for the last few days — which wasn’t much. He also secretly weighed what felt like a lifetime of loneliness and the newfound hope of kinship. Eventually he nodded.</p><p>Green eyes flashed in anticipation. Rezyl slowly reached down, placing a heavy hand over Jaren’s, still gripping the knife with white knuckles. He silently brought their hands up to Rezyl’s other outstretched palm and pressed the blade against his skin.</p><p>Jaren instantly smelled the warm, coppery scent of blood — but was baffled by the second, more overpowering scent that followed. He gave Rezyl a confused look as he eventually recognized the stench of fetid rot. But his eyes were quickly drawn to Rezyl’s mouth, twisted into an almost-smile that now revealed teeth too large, too sharp to still be human.</p><p>A gnawing worry began to scrabble around in his mind, instinct telling Jaren that the man before him was anything but. He tamped down the sudden urge to strike and carefully pulled away the knife. It was stained with black blood.</p><p>Something like horns were beginning to protrude from the sides of Rezyl’s head, hidden at first by hair but growing rapidly longer. His green eyes seemed to glow and his face looked taut and pallid. It was strange — he was still Rezyl, but also very much something else.</p><p>Jaren felt an oppressive calmness begin to cloud his thoughts as he stared into those eyes and he reflexively drew up his knife at the intrusion. Rezyl tensed — the uncomfortable presence trying to creep into Jaren’s mind halted — as he eyed the blade hovering dangerously close to his neck. He looked back into Jaren’s face with a rumbling laugh that sent a chill down his spine.</p><p>“<em> Smart</em>.” he crooned.</p><p>“Don’t want a repeat of that night.”</p><p>“I’m in control.” Rezyl said slowly, the words sounding strange around inhuman teeth. He was standing very close to Jaren, crowded into his space and somehow even taller as he loomed over Jaren.</p><p>The Gunslinger stood his ground, taking a shaky breath. </p><p>“How often do you lose control?”</p><p>Rezyl’s calm expression shifted to something like a snarl, a hardness coming to his eyes that hinted at the beast lurking beneath the still vaguely human surface. Rezyl took a step backwards but the tension that thrummed through Jaren’s body eased only slightly.</p><p>“I was injured,” Rezyl countered.</p><p>“But you’re better now.”</p><p>“Perfectly,” came the hissed reply. </p><p>“What do you call it, what you do?”</p><p>“Well,” Rezyl said slowly, running a blackened tongue over sharpened teeth, “I’d call it feeding.”</p><p>The <em> way </em> he said it sent another chill along Jaren’s spine, but he pushed the fear and whatever else came with it down and focused. There was something he needed to know.</p><p>“Rezyl. Did you feed on anyone in town?”</p><p>“No,” he replied harshly, and Jaren found he believed him.</p><p>“Only me then?”</p><p>“Only you.”</p><p>Jaren felt the presence brushing against his mind pull away as Rezyl brought his still bleeding palm to his mouth and lapped at the blood. The inhuman features began to recede, disappearing as rapidly as they had arrived, which brought out a chuckle from Jaren. This whole thing was absurd — and yet he felt oddly comforted. He’d finally seen proof that he wasn’t the only person who knew what it was to be something <em> else </em>.</p><p>“What now?” he asked, mouth feeling suddenly dry.</p><p>Rezyl shrugged. “I suppose we go our separate ways.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ban's name a comes from <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/arkosic/pseuds/arkosic">arkosic's</a> series, "<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/534727">The Settlement We Called Palamon</a>". It's soooooo good, y'all should read it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Sanctuary</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sun was higher in the sky now, but not much warmer for it. With the fire extinguished, the cave had become frigid and damp again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come back with me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rezyl paused, part of him wondering if he heard Ward correctly as the rest of him remained wary. He’d been organizing and adjusting his pack while Ward silently watched from the mouth of the cave — fully dressed and armored now, his own supplies packed away. Rezyl stared up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t…” Jaren started softly, “You don’t have to be… alone.”</span>
</p><p><span>The man was giving him a knowing look, a warmth in his blue eyes that Rezyl was confused by. Ward had every right to be angry or distrustful of him, but after their discussion earlier he’d become almost… sad. At first Rezyl thought it was pity — but the small piece of humanity at his core called it </span><em><span>understanding.</span></em> <em><span>He’s like you</span></em><span>, it suggested longingly. </span><em><span>He’s seen you and still wants to help.</span></em></p><p>
  <span>“And your precious town?” he spat, ignoring that voice and opting for aggressiveness in the face of admitting weakness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t hurt ‘em.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hunger always returns.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then… just use me. Seemed to work fine earlier.” Ward said it so easily and pragmatically that Rezyl almost gaped at him in disbelief. He let at a noncommittal huff and fiddled with one of the latches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Rezyl had to admit that there was something unique about the other man’s blood: his healing had been quicker than normal and the hunger kept at bay for longer. Most people around Rezyl didn’t survive this long — but the whispers were somehow quieted by Jaren’s presence. It was… nice, in a way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt the other man’s gaze still on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have something of yours.” Rezyl deflected, reaching inside his pack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ward pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against, head tilted in question as he approached where Rezyl sat. Rezyl removed a long, cloth-wrapped object and held it up toward the Gunslinger. As Ward took it from him and felt its familiar weight, his eyes immediately brightened with recognition before narrowing slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cleaned it for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told me it was in the saddlebag.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t want you to use it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still might,” he joked, a mirth in his voice that made Rezyl’s shoulders lose their tension. Ward finished unwrapping the hand cannon, revealing the brass engraving that gleamed against dark metal. He spun the barrel and examined the hammer with the practiced movements of an expert. The gun looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Jaren’s hands, as if it had been made specifically for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice piece of hardware.” Rezyl complimented.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared down at his own hands. They were strong and worn: well acquainted with stealing and fighting and killing, whatever it took to survive. But they’d been noble once — maybe could be again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you comin’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaren Ward was now holding a hand out towards Rezyl, the cannon stowed at his side and a friendly smile across his face. Rezyl looked at it, knowing what taking it could mean in a larger sense. Trust extended and expected, mingled with acceptance and something else he could only guess at.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breaking into a slight smile of his own, Rezyl took it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>- - -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a terrible idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strange, twisting knot of nervousness was building in Rezyl as they approached the town. He thought he had already shed such weak fears long ago — but maybe this was the price of the whispers’ absence. Humanity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to him, Ward quietly dismounted his horse and looked down into the valley with an air of relief and pride. He loved this place; Rezyl could almost smell it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not much, but it’s home.” Jaren said reverently, removing his hat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re good people,” he added, as if sensing Rezyl’s misgivings. “We’ll find a place for you, if you’d have it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darkness has no place here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaren Ward gave him a thoughtful look, that warmth still in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen that little notebook of yours. Could use a mapmaker — Traveler knows mine are no good to anyone else.” Jaren chuckled, running a hand through his hair before replacing the hat. He gave Rezyl a slight smile and started leading his horse down the rocky slope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rezyl stood there a moment and flexed his hands before softly closing them. He’d felt the knot ease somewhat as Jaren spoke — so after taking a deep breath, he began to follow Jaren towards the sanctuary the man called home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, same as when he had first arrived in Palamon, once Rezyl stepped within the gates of the town he suddenly felt weighed down and nauseous. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Had it been this strong before?</span>
  </em>
  <span> he wondered, almost gasping under its weight. An oppressive heaviness sank into his limbs and he slowed his pace, eventually coming to a halt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ward,” he ground out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaren came to a stop as well and turned back towards him, seemingly unphased by whatever gripped Rezyl. He frowned in confusion as Rezyl glared at him and seemed about to say something when they both heard a shout. A young boy was running towards Jaren and his horse, but stopped short when he noticed Rezyl. He glanced between the two of them nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shin,” Jaren said warmly, “this is Rezyl…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He trailed off and Rezyl was barely able to force out the rest of his name. “Azzir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rezyl Azzir. He’s going to be stayin’ a few days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he a friend?” the boy asked, looking askance at Rezyl. There was a piercing intensity to his eyes — Rezyl could have sworn that the force binding him somehow grew taut under the boy’s gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ward looked back at Rezyl, a smile on his lips. “I would say so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then welcome to Palamon, Rezyl Azzir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With those simple but strangely solemn words from the boy, the heaviness suddenly departed and Rezyl almost stumbled in surprise. He coughed once and straightened, focusing intently on the boy, who had stepped forward to embrace Jaren. Pulling away, Shin gave Rezyl another piercing look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently, Jaren Ward was not the town’s only guardian.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>🎵 For your listening pleasure: <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7eyUyXcY7LwbDUwsdU6N0J">a WotD-inspired Spotify Playlist</a></p><p>---</p><p>The inspirations for this story came from a variety of places — I started it back in October in a fugue state after reading <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimadagans/pseuds/shimadagans">shimadagans'</a> "<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908081/chapters/65661655">High Stakes</a>", seeing <a href="clashingshaders">clashingshader's</a> <a href="wynkyn%20de%20worme%20on%20Twitter">Jaren/Yor comic</a> (<em>again</em>), and just vibing with the Halloween spookiness.</p><p>I was also working on a D&amp;Destiny module at the time set in Palamon and had blazed my way through <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/arkosic/pseuds/arkosic">arkosic's</a> series, "<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/534727">The Settlement We Called Palamon</a>" while doing research.</p><p>There were some ideas for scenes that didn't end up fitting with this story, but I might flesh out at some point. Mostly because I love the idea of Shin having <i>three</i> dads who all lived... and maybe some uncles because I love the hunter pack boys too.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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